Hard to Kill Habits
by LillianLuthor
Summary: Giles goes missing all of a sudden. Spike finds him, out of chance, in the most unexpected of places. Ulikely allies will be recruited, and nasty old habits will come forward.
1. Chapter 1

Spike was spectacularly pissed off.

The watcher had been missing for nearly two weeks, and he hadn't had a single drop of blood since then. There had been just the one blood bag left in the watcher's refrigerator at the time of his sudden disappearance and, never one for rationing, Spike had gulped it down carelessly on that very night, while the girls and the boy had gone crazy trying to figure out what to do.

After the initial shock of the disappearance had waned the slayer had gotten hers together and, after an overly long and inane motivational speech, had put the witches to work on finding the missing watcher, sent the boy to fetch doughnuts and sodas, and forced Spike out on patrol with her.

He had to admit it. He had gotten so used to having his blood, if not top quality, at least served warm and comfortably in his "I love the librarian" mug that he had forgotten how hard it could be to get it on his own. Unable to hunt, unable to threaten Willie, with no money and no way to get money, he was very well starving.

He could kill vampires, of course, but any money they might have usually went with the rest of the vamp when they turned to dust. He had tried demons, but the lower ones didn't usually have pockets, and there was a major shortage of higher demons around. He had even tried hunting for kittens to sale, but had only managed a few half-gown cats, and the money he had gotten for them had been barely enough for ciggies.

That only left him with the rather abhorrent option of drinking from something that was either not human or not alive; about ninety-nine percent of the stuff out there tasted like socks, minions were usually too dirty to be any good on the gustative papillae… and yes, on top of that was the whole embarrassment of being caught by someone of some standing while snacking on a troll, a puppy, or somebody else's leftovers.

Since hunting for something to eat was out of the question, and he was in too foul a mood to do much else, he had been sitting in the whelp's basement watching the telly and scheming. That's when the poor sod had apparently taken pity on him, and offered him a few bucks to get something to eat.

Spike had been grateful and said so, but had failed to mention the fact that he had already picked the pockets of everything in the room.

Finding himself with some cash in his pockets, and pissed at the slayer as he was, he was taking the night off her service and was letting Clem take him to this new demon bar that apparently 'everybody was talking about'. Spike just in it for the blood, really, but why upset the poor sod… and maybe he could get himself a free drink to go with his blood.

There was a rather long line of assorted waiting demons at the door of the place, which Spike was glad to skip when he recognized the demon at the door as the poor bastard who had been beaten to an inch of his life by the slayer, just barely a week ago. He might not have been a top fighter, but Spike had to give it to the bloke, he knew how to run.

The doorman recognized him at once, so he didn't have to go beyond vague and inane threats to be exhorted in, for free, and with much reverence. He could revel in the fear for one night, pretend the whole thing wasn't because he was the slayer's puppet. That brought him back…

He hadn't been expecting much of anything, considering what Clem usually thought was 'cool', but in his wildest nightmares he couldn't have expected what he found. Although on second thought, he should probably feel relieved that a Britney Spears impersonator was nowhere around.

But he was very well starving, he could smell the blood martini the bartender was mixing all the way from the door, and he had been adulated like he hadn't been in a long time. He would deal; just had to ignore the screen placed in the middle of the back wall, above the stage.

"Oh, this is so great!" Clem was going on at his side, hurrying to try and keep up with him. "I just love The Show, don't you? And they have the coolest performers, too!"

"That's just peachy, Clem" he assured the friendly demon, keeping up a steady pace to the bar at the other end of the room. "Can't wait to see that zombie playing Columbia."

"Zombies can't tap dance." Clem shook his head sadly. "Poor bastards can't even say the lines, let alone _sing_… They have mostly humans playing the parts, to try and make it as close to the original as possible. I tried to audition for Brad, but they said I didn't look human enough."

"You wanted to be _Brad_?" Spike asked in disbelief, thinking that perhaps starvation was playing tricks with his hearing as he sat on a stool by the bar "Can't believe I let myself be seen with you…"

"Shhh, here come Brad and Janet…" Clem ignored him, his demand of silence very much alike an old lady's in a movie theatre, as two very unmotivated looking humans came on stage. "I'd make a handsomer Brad than him, wouldn't I?"

"Not gonna answer that, mate." He shook his head in resignation as Clem started to sing along. "Let me know when the show's over; hopefully I'll be remarkably pissed by then."


	2. 02

The movie was, as always, lamentable and the acting of the humans wasn't all that great either; he had seen hundreds of better actors making fools of themselves in such manner, and was therefore magnificently unimpressed by these poor sods. Specially Riff Raff, who was an _actual_ hunchback and, obviously, unable to maintain a certain amount of equilibrium while dancing.

He wasn't truly paying much attention at all, although he was rather enjoying the music, until he heard a modulation that was sort of familiar. He couldn't really place it at first, and the thought of disregarding it came to mind, but for some reason he had the hunch he needed to see who it was. The room was amazingly crowded, but he had already gotten a rather good idea of who it might be even before he managed to catch a glimpse of the live performers.

"Well blimey!" he exclaimed as he saw the missing watcher, in fishnet and dramatically high heels, prancing around the small stage.

"Isn't he the coolest? We all love him" Clem, who was by his side again, agreed wholeheartedly. "He has such a great voice, and is not a half bad dancer…"

"Do you even know who that is?" Spike asked in disbelief, unable to take his eyes off the stage as Rupert Bloody Giles paraded around in glittery shoes and a corset that was admittedly much better than the movie's wardrobe, but still disturbing to an extreme.

"Well, I don't really 'know' Rup, but he's around…" Clem shrugged. "He's a nice enough guy, but I think he drinks too much…"

"You would too, if you were in his incredibly shiny shoes…" Spike snorted, unable to take his eyes off the bizarre show. "Bloody hell, that's the slayer's bloody watcher there!"

"Oh right!" Clem slapped his forehead in sudden recognition. "He's really talented! Could you, maybe, introduce me to him?" he asked, making puppy eyes at Spike.

"I will if you buy me one of those gin n' blood drinks" he agreed, never one to miss the chance for a drink. "Should probably return him to the slayer, too" the vampire added, on second thought.

Meeting the performers was quite a feature, as almost every other demon in the house wanted to congratulate them on their amazing performance. The procedure was simple: the performers sat on a long table at the back of the room, and all the demons who wanted to meet them could form in line. Autographs were signed at request; hair and blood samples were sold on a small table to the side, as mementos.

Touching was permitted, but no grabbing and definitely no clawing. Only one demon at the table at any given time, and if any of the performers screamed, the demon in question would be banned for life from the establishment. As it was, two Brads and three Janets had already gotten killed, and the previous Frankie had gone down when some guy had tried to kidnap him.

It was an hour long queue, but they finally made it to the table where the star performers were sitting. Janet was some girl from the highschool Spike barely recognized, and she looked one step away from bolting; Magenta was filing her fingernails and looking bored like she always did, back when she was working at the 7/11 near the cemetery. Rupert, for his part, looked rather bored and was very passé about taking all the adulatory comments and signing all the autographs he was asked. He didn't recognize any of the others.

When it was finally his turn he walked straight to the watcher and coughed a little to get the man to look up. When Giles did, his eyes rounded up and he looked mildly hopeful all of a sudden.

"Spike, thank God." Rupert sighed in what seemed like hesitant relief. "I do hope you have a plan to get me out of here?"

"What? Can't handle the spotlight?" Spike asked, the situation hilarious enough that he could barely keep a straight face "You look good in fishnet…"

"You are, amazingly enough, not the first to bring that up" the watcher admitted, sounding plain tired rather than embarrassed as Spike would have hoped. "I am quite ready to leave here, and I'd truly appreciate it if you could, maybe, not involve Buffy and the girls in this… sordid little situation."

"It will cost you, watcher…" the vampire warned, although he had frankly not considered charging his fellow British-man up until then. The improvisation was obviously lost on an exhausted Rupert Giles.

"I wouldn't expect any less, Spike" the human assured him "Now if you please, keep moving. There are more people in the line, and the owner gets upset if anybody stays up here too long…"

"See you next Saturday then, Frankie" Spike waved cheerfully, making room for a scaly purple demon carrying a dozen red roses and a dead fox.


	3. 03

The week went by in a hurry, and all too soon Saturday came again. Spike was honestly very far from upset, but was also admittedly far from figuring out how to get the watcher out. Furthermore, he had come to realize he would need a partner; because he wasn't coming out with a plan on his own but, mostly, because he didn't have any money to go back to the show in the first place.

"Come on wanker, dress up a bit nicer. We're going out" he declared, suddenly making up his mind and springing up from his place in front of the TV.

"_We_ are? When do _we_ go out?" the boy asked, without moving from his couch and looking at him like he had grown a second head. "How long since you've fed, Spike? I think you brain is dying…"

"Fine, be a pain if you want…" Spike shrugged in faked indifference. "Just wanted to show you something, is all."

"Show me what?" the boy asked, suddenly interested.

"Never mind. Forget it." Spike waved him off, all the while congratulating himself on his great manipulative skills. "Dunno what I thinking…"

"Hey, hey!" Xander leaped from the couch. "What? What is it?"

"…wouldn't know how to handle it…" the vampire went on, frankly surprised the whole thing was even working.

"I _so_ would!" the boy again interrupted him, now sounding affronted by the idea "I'm a Scooby, I handle all kind of things…"

"…couldn't possibly do anything…" Spike pushed a bit farther, and bingo…

"That's it! We're going out… wherever" the human said determined, grabbing his jacket on his way to the door. Spike smiled to himself in triumph.

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"This is what you wanted to show me?" Xander looked perplexed as, after a blood-freezing, over all too soon ride in Spike's battered old car, he found himself been ushered into a tacky-looking establishment. "Some _way_ strange demon bar?"

"Why don't you buy me a drink? You'll understand in a moment…" the vampire assured him. "I'll go get a table right across the stage."

"I'm not buying you a drink, Spike" the boy rolled his eyes, for the first time considering he might have been tricked. "This isn't a date. Just… show me what you wanted to show me."

"It'll take a bit… might be nicer to wait with a drink…" the undead of the pair shrugged nonchalantly.

"Forget it, Spike" Xander said, sounding irrevocable as he followed the vampire all the way to a well located table in the very middle of the room.

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Nearly half an hour into the movie Xander was downing his second beer, and Spike was half way through his blood & rum; he was still laughing at the memory of the boy's face as the watcher had first come on stage.

"I am scarred forever!" Xander whined, throwing his hands in the air. "And those damn tunes! They're so catchy I end up singing even if I hate it! I am singing a song that has Giles in women's undies!"

"Has good legs, that watcher does…" Spike hummed noncommittally, truthfully appreciative of the man's well-hidden attributes, but mostly just enjoying the boy's discomfort.

As he had expected, the boy hit his own head against the tabletop. "Oh God! I need a stronger drink!" he whimpered, waving the waited desperately.


	4. 04

As the previous Saturday, the autograph signing ritual repeated itself. This time, however, Spike was ready for it and pushed his way to the very front of the stage right before the public started getting in line. Xander and he ended up sixth in line, right behind the scaly purple demon with the dozen red roses and, this time, what looked like an alligator skin.

"I don't imagine you've actually come to break me out" Giles sighed in resignation when Spike, whom he had seen placidly waiting in line, came up to him. "I am only wondering; do you even have a plan, or you just wanted to show me to Xander at my lowest?"

"Needed someone to pay for things, didn't I?" Spike smirked. "Let me tell you watcher, you are an expensive bunch up here…"

"I refuse to rise up to that provocation, so just please meet me here at this time…" the watcher sighed yet again, offering Spike a signed photograph of himself in Frank-n-furter's cape. "And don't show that to the children, please".

"Wouldn't think of it" Spike assured him, even managing to look somewhat upset that Giles would think that of him. "Come on, whelp, and say something to the watcher before we leave…"

"Um, hey there Giles" Xander said tentatively, hesitantly stepping up to the large table. "We'll get you out real soon… I'm sure Spike has a plan."

"I appreciate the intent Xander, but we all know how well Spike's planning usually goes…" the watcher pondered, playing with his glass of scotch in an almost hypnotic manner. "Perhaps I should swallow my pride and ask you to get Buffy?"

Xander was at a loss as how to answer that. "I don't think she needs to see…" he started, not sure of how to continue. "I don't think she needs to see… um… all this… alcohol" he improvised, realizing his horrible mistake as soon as the last word left his lips. "Not that there is anything wrong with alcohol, if you drink moderately…" he instantly assured the watcher. "And by 'you' I mean people in general, not you-Giles."

"That's alright Xander" smiled reassuringly, if not glad that word was out of his little problem, at least comforted by the familiar babble. "You better go with Spike now" he said after a minute or so of silence, "you're holding up the line".

"Oh!" the boy exclaimed, looking relieved. "Alright, see you later G-man!"

"That's the best I've been called in weeks…" the watcher sighed, watching the retreating back of his would-be saviours. Had he not been British, he would have been having a panic attack by then.

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The meeting with Giles was around four in the morning, in a dark alley not too far from the bar. Spike was smoking a cigarette and drinking from a bottle of Jack he had made Xander buy in his stupor, and ignoring the boy's constant babble about going back to get Giles at once, when he saw the shadows moving in the mouth of the alley.

"Watcher? That you?" he called out, glad that the boy had gone quiet at last.

"Yes, Spike, it is me" the watcher's voice confirmed, just a few seconds before he fully emerged from the shadows of the dark alley, dressed in blue jeans and a black t-shirt. "Walk with me" he invited, starting again for the street he had just come from.

"Where are we going?" Spike asked, even though he was already following. "And how come you're just strolling around on your own?" he added on second thought.

"They let us out after the show, to buy cigarettes and human food…" the watcher explained, lifting up a hand with an innocent looking red ribbon tied to it "It's magicked. If we go too far, we basically just… implode. It happened to the last Eddie, actually."

"Can't you just rip it off?" the boy inquired, horrified at the thought of an imploding Giles. "It doesn't look all that strong…"

"Xander, seriously, don't you think I've tried?" the watcher rolled his eyes in a very uncharacteristic way as he headed for an all night dinner. "Come on, I'll buy you some coffee."

"You have money?" Xander asked surprised, not sure he was understanding Giles' situation properly.

"Plenty, as a matter of fact" the watcher chuckled without humour. "Ira doesn't see anything wrong with kidnapping humans for his cast, but he does pay us rather handsomely."

"He's called Ira?" Xander said, sounding entirely disbelieving. "What kind of a demon is called Ira?"

"A three hundred year old Yrouk with a multimillion dollar estate. Grew fond of the name in the seventies." Spike informed. "I know the guy, he's a bit of alright if you ask me…"

"Yes, he is quite gracious" Giles admitted at once. "Although I do find some faults in his system…"

"But still, we kind of thought you would be in excruciating torment by now…" Xander pointed out.

"Trust me, I am."


	5. 05

The week after the encounter in the alley flew by in a blur. Nervous planning and hopeless desperation took turns in Xander's mind, along with fear and doubts, and eventual bouts of hyperactive motivation. There was also the implacable desire to run to Buffy for help, opposed by the righteous obligation to protect her and the girls from the sight of Giles in such situation.

Spike was mostly just leaving it to Xander to worry, and only concerned himself with holding the boy back when the slayer and her friends were around. If the watcher's whereabouts were revealed he would lose any potential profit he might extract from Giles and, in all honesty, he didn't really want to risk Dawn finding out about the old man's secret talents.

Of course Xander was even worse than Spike as far as planning was concerned, and by the time Saturday came again he was caught without a single idea to get Giles out of his predicament.

By eight o'clock Xander was already sorry he had confessed to Spike his absolute lack of a plan, and had given the chipped vampire freedom to do as he saw fit.

Spike had said he had a plan, and Xander had insisted to go with him back to the demon bar, just to make sure Giles' best interests were been taken into account. As it turned out, Spike's plan was to go back there, sit at the bar and drink himself senseless while Xander paid the bills.

"Spike, did your plan had anything to do with actually helping Giles?" he had no choice but ask, after an hour of ordering drinks and sustaining casual conversation with the vampire in the crowded demon bar.

"'Course, git" Spike answered, looking like he was annoyed Xander was even there. "Hey, blue" he called the blue haired female on the other side of the bar "is Ira around?"

"He's upstairs, I'll get him for you…" the pretty demon answered in a friendly manner, picking up a phone from under the bar. "Are you a friend?"

"Acquaintance" the vampire corrected her. "Name's Spike."

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Half an hour and a couple beers later an enormous and very orange, otherwise rather human-looking demon appeared. He went straight to Spike, looking rather less than pleased to see him, and pointedly ignoring Xander and everybody else around.

"Spike" was the short acknowledgment, some concern visible in the demon's expression. "You're not looking for trouble, I hope…"

"Nah, just wanted to talk about your Frankie…" Spike said, sounding noncommittal enough that Xander let out the breath he was holding.

"Ah, isn't he spectacular?" Ira expression changed dramatically from intimidating to friendly, and he smiled proudly. "But forget it, he's not for rent…"

"What?" Spike exclaimed, obviously surprised and offended by the unexpected answer. "You think I want to… bugger all!"

"Well, I've received generous offers…" Ira wiggled his eyebrows, looking playful for an instant before he grew serious again. "But as I always say, I pay him to sing and dance. What he does with his free time, is up to him…"

"As long as he don't go too far…" Spike snorted.

"Well, no. Have to protect the investment, don't I? You don't get talent like that everyday…" the bar owner confessed, looking adoringly at the stage where Giles was singing the first song of the night. "The voice, the dancing… he already knew the lyrics, you know?"

"Did he now?" the vampire asked, faking admiration. "Well then, Ira, let's talk business… how much for the dancing queen?"

"I told you, he's not for sale… and don't look at me like that, Spike" the orange businessman said with an air of finality. "Look at him up there! They love him! And what would you do with such talent?" he asked with a speculative look at the vampire. "Forget it. I wouldn't give a human to you even if they _were_ for sale, but this one is truly not negotiable…"

"I really don't want to eat or shag him, you know…" Spike said, sounding rather offended by the notion. "I don't pay for any of those."

"Didn't think you would… but I wouldn't sell this one even if Andrew Lloyd Weber came knocking on my very door." Ira assured him, his tone indicating that the conversation was over. "Now if you'd excuse me… Ilken, give the guy a drink on the house" he told the blue-haired waitress, and with that turned and left.

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After the show was over, instead of forming in line for the autograph signing ritual, Spike and Xander went straight into the alley were Giles had met with them the prior weekend.

The novelty of his father figure wearing fishnet and glitter had waned considerably since his first experience at The Show and, as a result, Xander was becoming harder for Spike to manipulate into buying him things.

With nothing to drink and hardly any smokes left, human and vampire sat in silence in the deserted alley, waiting for their missing watcher.

"Hi there, Rup" Spike called out, as the previous time, even before he could fully see the watcher coming their way. "Plan failed" he added, as soon as the man was close enough.

"Well, count me unsurprised…" Giles said, more than a bit of irony in his voice. "May I ask what the plan was?"

"Tried to buy you, I did" Spike explained, sounding proud of his good thinking. "Was a good plan, but Ira's kinda fond of you…" he expressed regretfully.

"I should have guessed so…" the watcher shook his head, not bothering to conceal his infuriation. "Was that even a plan? Wouldn't it have been easier to just get someone to break this… bracelet?"

"Now, now, hold your horses there, watcher" Spike tried for a placating tone "Don't know anyone into the magics, other than red and Glinda… but you _said_ not to get them."

"Can't you _find_ someone?" Giles pushed on, raising his voice enough that he was practically shouting.

"What? In the paranormal yellow pages? You fucking daft, watcher?" Spike rose to the occasion, shouting back at the testy watcher. "Told you I don't know anyone, didn't I?"

"Um, Spike" Xander's voice, as low as a murmur, distracted the vampire right before he punched the older man in the face. "There actually _are_ paranormal yellow pages in Sunnydale, you know? You can get them at the Magic Box for 12.99."

"Are there now?" the vampire turned to the boy, barely holding back his bad temper. "Why didn't you say so, git? I don't even have a phone…"

"I _am_ saying, Spike" the young human insisted, obviously in a hurry to go. "Come on, I'll even pay for them…"

"Like I'd waste a single dollar on any of your lot…" the vampire snorted, giving the watcher a disdainful look which Xander somehow seemed to catch.

"Don't worry Giles, we'll get you out of here in no time…" the boy assured the older man. "Let's go, Spike" he called back, starting for the mouth of the alley in a hurry.

"Coming, ain't I?" he called back, starting after the scoobie. "See you around, watcher."


	6. 06

They arrived at the Magic Box several hours before opening time. On the one hand, Spike rationalized, it couldn't possibly be considered breaking and entering when the person doing the entering actually had a key. Furthermore, Giles being the owner of the shop, he would most definitely want them to enter and fetch the yellow pages, even if the place was closed for business.

On the other hand, Xander insisted, it was rather dishonest to just go in without the owner, or the employee, there. It was eventually revealed that he was just afraid of how Anya might react and, after been called pussy-whipped and several other colourful names for some time, he produced the key that opened the Magic Box.

"I say we nick them." Spike suggested, as soon as they set foot inside the store. "It's to save the watcher, after all. His shop, his yellow pages, his arse. Perfect circle."

"While your logic is sound, Spike, you have no idea what you're talking about…" Xander corrected him, shaking his head 'no' several times. "It's impossible to steal from Anya. She always knows" he shivered, thinking for a moment of Anya's wrath. "No, it's just 12.99. I prefer to part with 12.99 than with my… you know."

"That bad?" Spike asked curiously.

"For 12.99?" the boy looked at him in disbelief. "Worse, maybe… I took a mint without paying once, and she threatened to break all my toes…"

"Tough bird, I like her…" Spike grinned, looking somewhat pleased with the account of her ferociousness. "Better look for our guy here, then. Put the thing back in the shelf after, and no-one will be the wiser."

"Your cheapness never ceases to amaze me" Xander sighed, following the vampire into the back of the store.

As it turned out, the paranormal yellow pages were just the same as the average yellow pages, neatly classified by category, and in just a matter of seconds they found what they were looking for.

"There. Magic Practitioners" Spike pointed out over Xander's shoulder. "That's the section, alright…"

"Okay… now, what do we look for in a magic practitioner?" the boy asked, intimidated by the sheer amount of people listed.

"That they can practice magic" the vampire said, somewhat irritably. "What the hell do you mean, git?"

"Well, we can't just pick anyone from the book!" the young human explained, sounding concerned. "It could be an evil mage in a quest for chaos and destruction, or… or it could be a crazed one trying to destroy the world. Or maybe it could just be a very expensive one! I don't have that much money left…"

"Yeah, I see your point, there…" Spike admitted. "So what, then? Can't bloody well tell nice from naughty from a printed paper…"

"Well, um, let's see what they do…" Xander suggested. "Like this one… she does love spells."

"Might be a phoney, that one. Everybody and their aunt is doing love magic" Spike assured him.

"I was thinking more about how unethical love magic is, but you're right too…" the boy conceded. "So everyone who does love magic is gone… Wow, that narrows it by a half!"

"How 'bout 'do yer will' spells?" Spike opined. "Bloody nasty, that…"

"Yeah, they're gone too…" agreed Xander. "And definitely all the 'bring the dead back' ones."

"Even the mediums?" the vampire asked, sounding curious as to the reasons.

"Specially them!" the human exclaimed. "A zombie is an easy kill, but a disembodied guy is hell to get rid of, once its called back…"

"Right." Spike agreed. "Party tricks… they go, too."

"Yeah, who hires magic fireworks anyway?" chuckled Xander.

"It's less of a mess" explained the undead of the pair. "Light show up there, no garbage left down here."

"Oh, really?" the boy sounded impressed. "I might hire that for my family's Christmas dinner, then… It's not like anyone would be sober enough to notice, and no cleaning up later…"

"Might wanna book it now" Spike advised "Gonna be all scheduled out by early august."

"Really?"

"Yeah, good business, that is" the vampire assured him "Most kind of demons like fireworks, but aren't that fond of actual fire… brings in a good dollar."

"So what? They stay, or they go?" asked Xander, already back to business.

"Nah, they go. A five year old can do fireworks" Spike snorted.

"O-okay" agreed the human, trusting for once in the vampire's better judgement. "Well, the Black Sorceress definitely goes… that leaves only these two."

"Alright, then…" Spike decided. "That John Talbot bloke should do. Ain't gonna let a man named Bo do any magic for me."

"Is that even a name?" Xander wondered, taking a piece of paper from the counter to write down the address and phone number.


	7. 07

John Talbot's place, a magic store very much alike the Magic Box, was not very far away. As it turned out, it was barely a ten minute drive west; twenty minutes maybe, if one considered Spike didn't much care for safe driving.

The neighbourhood was pleasant, if not very well-off, and all of the houses looked clean and well kept. Not a sordid part of town, Xander was relieved to notice. Looking around, he could even see some people walking around, obviously at ease; not the brightest kind of people, for sure, but that spoke a lot about the safety of the place. The store itself was in a moderately dark street, off an avenue, but nothing about the place looked threatening.

"That's a strange place for a shop like this…" Xander observed, taking another look at all the suburban little homes around them.

"Not that strange. It's the demon part of town" the vampire commented casually. "Lots of costumers 'round these parts."

"Demon part of town" the boy repeated, puzzled. "There is a demon part of town?"

"Well, yeah" Spike said, as if he were talking to a particularly slow child. "What? Thought everyone lived in cemeteries and sewers? Some guys won't settle for less than a penthouse, mind you."

"They won't? I thought the sewers were demon heaven…" Xander admitted. "Wait, how do they even _pay_ for a penthouse?"

"Dunno." Spike shrugged noncommittally. "It's their business, right? You'd be surprised at how many big time companies are run by demons. Personally, I prefer stock."

"You… buy stock?" Xander asked, disbelief plain in his voice and face.

"Well, yeah…" the vampire exclaimed. "Come on Harris… been around for over a century. Gotta be a real moron _not_ to do something with my money… and I did inherit quite a bit."

"You… you cheap bastard!" the boy accused, extremely upset by the news. "I barely make minimum wage, and you live off me like a leech! I'm _so_ telling Buffy on you…"

"Now, now, Harris. Don't fuss. Don't need any more trouble, right now" Spike tried for a reasonable, calming tone. "Tell you what, if you keep your pretty mouth closed, I'll give you some money…"

"Some money?" Xander repeated, not believing his own two ears. "You're loaded, Spike. The least you can do is a pension."

"What, alimony?" the undead of the pair snorted. "What are you? My bloody ex-wife? Don't happen to want child support, then?"

"I'm not going to have your lovechild anytime soon, Spike, so that'd be a big no" Xander said emphatically. "Still, come on, you're living off me. What do you save all that money for, anyway?"

"For later", Spike shrugged.

"Later when? You could be dust tomorrow, Spike" the boy insisted. "How cheap _can_ you be?"

"I'm not cheap" the vampire defended himself. "Just don't have that many needs… I'm the evil undead, not a consumerist little bitch."

"Well, I am a child of consumerism" Xander said, determined. "I want… stuff."

"Like what?" Spike asked, sceptically "Big screen TV? Whole collection of Star fucking Trek DVDs? Inflatable doll?"

"Now, there, bleach head!" the boy warned. "I feel you're underestimating my raw sexual appeal."

"Whatever you say, Harris" the blonde rolled his eyes. "Tell you what, I'll give you a hundred dollars a month."

"You gotta be kidding me… a _hundred_ dollars?" Xander protested. "What does one _do_ with a hundred dollars?"

"I live the whole moth on a hundred dollars, sometimes less…"

"Spike" the boy interrupted him. "When you're not living in my basement you live in a filthy crypt, and in neither case do you pay rent, or cable, or anything… You always wear the same clothes, and you eat for free. You shoplift smokes and booze. I'm thinking all you buy is hair dye and nail polish… so yeah, a hundred dollars is more than enough."

"Fine, I'll give you two hundred" Spike accepted, unenthusiastically. "But you have to get me a real bed, then. Couch's bloody uncomfortable."

"If you give me five, I'll rent out a place with an extra bedroom…" Xander offered, getting the hang of the entire negotiation deal all too soon.

"Do I get TV privileges?" Spike inquired, pretending indifference.

"Only if you don't listen to your horrible music during Xander sleep hours" the boy offered.

"What will your little friends say about it?" the vampire asked then. "Don't figure they will like it much?"

"I'll say I got a raise" the human assured him, entirely unconcerned. "They always dump you on me anyway…"

"Well, ain't that peachy" Spike snorted. "Makes a bloke feel real wanted, it does."

"Spike, if I said I enjoyed you company in the least, you'd mock me for life…" Xander sighed, not believing his ears. "Don't deny it, you _know_ it's true!"

"Have it your way, then" Spike said, avoiding the subject entirely. "So what? Gonna stay here all night, or should we step inside?"

"Go ahead, sugar daddy…"


	8. 08

The inside of the magic store was nothing extraordinary at all; the room was small and welcoming, brightly lit and fresh smelling. Several rows of neatly ordered bookshelves to the right, and another several rows of shelves filled of magical supplies to the left. Straight ahead, there was an unremarkable counter with an unremarkable cash register and some tidily ordered leaflets –of the very much unremarkable kind.

The only noteworthy thing about the store was, in fact, the person who was standing right behind the counter, smiling the very artificial looking smile of a true and tried businessman.

"Ethan Rayne" Xander exclaimed, not one step into the shop.

"I suppose I'd be expected to reply by saying your name back in overreacted shock, but I don't seem to remember what it was…" the man, himself, replied with a salesman politeness. "Spike, on the other hand, I have a clear recollection of. No grudges, I hope?"

"We'll see about it…" the vampire said noncommittally. "We're actually looking for some help, of the magical kind."

"Of course, it's what I do…" Ethan's smile turned from tactically friendly to authentically interested. "What did you have in mind?"

"Spike!" Xander all but whined, disbelieving. "This is Ethan Rayne, Chaos mage extraordinaire? Giles' nemesis? Maybe we should go see that Bo guy…"

"Already here, aren't we?" Spike dismissed him, without even a sideways look. "We need help breaking out a bloke who was kidnapped by a Yrouk"

"Spike, I really don't think this is a good idea…" the boy pressed on, used enough to been ignored that he didn't feel frustrated in the least by it.

"A Yrouk?" the mage inquired, pointedly overlooking the human's protest. "That wouldn't be Ira, would it? I've already had a couple humans complaining about Ira's way of recruiting for his show, but I strongly suggest you just let it be… he'll come up with a new show in time, and let you friend go free."

"I know how he works, and he takes good care of his humans…" Spike couldn't but agree. "But we need our… _friend_ right now. He's a resourceful bloke, and he's doing us no good over there with his drag act."

"Well, I am afraid you will have to try someone else, then. I have an ongoing business association with Ira, and I simply cannot steal one of his cast just like that…" Ethan explained, sounding deliberately sympathetic but firm, until he suddenly stopped at mid-sentence. "It's not Ripper, is it?"

"Who?" asked the vampire, who had been waiting not entirely patiently for the man to shut up.

"Rupert" Ethan insisted. "It's not Rupert that has gone missing, is it?"

"Yes, it's him" Xander threw his hands in the air, frustrated. "That's why I don't think you're the best choice of help!"

"Now, why would you say that, boy?" the sorcerer asked, sounding as if faced with a stubborn child, and looking entirely too affable for a chaos worshiper. "Not only will I help you; I will even do it for free."

"Now wait a minute there, I was your victim once… you're not going to help us, and that is that" the boy assured him, vigorously shaking his head. "Spike, tell him he's not going to help us…"

"He _did_ say he'd do it for free, pet" Spike pointed out. "You're hired. What now?"

"I'd have to see Rupert" Ethan answered, all business now. "I know Ira uses some kind of magic sensor on them, but I don't know what exactly it is that he uses… once I see what it is, I'm sure it'll be no problem to get it off him. I know Ira's practitioner, and he's infamous for his weak magic."

"I still think this is a bad, bad idea…" Xander insisted, albeit only half-heartedly.

It was expectable that Xander Harris, young and rhetorically incapacitated mortal, wouldn't be able to talk the infamously stubborn William the Bloody out of anything –no matter how very stupid and ill-conceived that anything was.

Still, the boy considered it his responsibility to insist on how very stupid an idea it was to hire such a man for such a job. Or for any job, really.

"Spike, why did you hire him?" he complained as they left the store. "He's a bad, bad chaos mage! And he _hates_ Giles!"

"Now now, let's not overreact. I'm sure it's nothing" Spike tried to placate him. "Besides, you know how many imbeciles are out there doing magic in this day and age? It's a jungle out there."

"You just hired him because he said he'd do it for free!" Xander accused.

"Absolutely not" the vampire assured him. "I have only the best references of him."

"That's only because you're an evil creature of the night!" the boy pointed out, his voice rising in disbelief. "Ethan Rayne is bad, _bad_ news!"

"Well, can't cancel now. Got some manners, don't I? We'll see how it goes, and that's that" Spike decided."Now, about that two-bedroom apartment…"

"I'm not officially moving in with you if Giles gets killed… or even traumatically humiliated" Xander frowned.

"That's a lost bet then, Harris" the vampire snorted, remembering the watcher in fishnet and glitter. The humour was soon replaced, however, by a very serious expression. "I'm not giving you any money if there is no apartment."

"Asshole."

"Scumbag."


	9. 09

After a fairly uneventful week of pretending to help the girls look for Giles, while at the same time avoiding to mention the fact that the watcher they were looking for was right there for everyone to see—and was in fact showing far more than any of them had ever seen of him—Saturday night found Spike and Xander once again at Ira's.

Moral dilemmas were, of course, the order of the day, especially as far as Xander was concerned. Spike didn't really care one way or the other, as long as the watcher was rescued, as intact and with as little fight as possible. He was mostly just wondering as to how to play things all the more to his advantage, and with the lesser harm to his already fatally wounded reputation.

At eight o'clock, sharp, Ethan Rayne joined them at the bar. He walked in at a leisurely pace, right on time as expected, and looking spectacularly inconspicuous in an ordinary shirt, sporting what could only be described as an affable yet dull smile. His eyes, as usual, told a different tale, but nobody was looking all that closely.

"Good evening Spike, I trust I am not too late?" the sorcerer said as a way of greeting, sitting casually in their table.

"It's fine, the watcher will be on in a few minutes…" Spike shrugged, not at all impressed by his punctuality. "Hey, Harris, buy the man a drink, will you."

"_Spike_, we've talked about this…" Xander all but whined. "You're ruining me. Why do I always have to pay for everything, again?"

"That's alright" Ethan assured him, politeness impersonated and wearing a mocking grin. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of any 'marital inconveniences'. I will get that drink myself".

"Told you you were acting like an angry woman, Harris" Spike pointed out, as the mage walked his way to the bar.

"Am not!" the boy exclaimed in rightful indignation. "You're just so… annoying! I think I preferred it when you were trying to kill us all!"

"You don't mean that, Harris" the vampire cut him off, not so amused anymore. "Now shut up and watch the show."

"But I don't want to!" the boy whined on. "Last Saturday I caught myself staring at Giles' legs, and that is just wrong!"

"He still has the best legs, doesn't he?" Ethan hummed appreciatively, having just returned to his sit with a strange coloured drink.

"Ew, mind-scarring!" Xander complained loudly. "What is _wrong_ with you guys?"

"Actually, the question is: what is wrong with Rupert?" the sorcerer corrected him. "He wasn't always an uptight, anal retentive little librarian" he explained, going silent for a minute. "Well, he _was_ always rather anal, but back in the day he could party with the best of them… I don't know where he went wrong."

"Um, didn't you mean where _you_ went wrong?" Xander pointed out, surprise by the need to mention to obvious.

"I admit it, I do get carried away just a bit, from time to time…" Ethan conceded, looking thoughtful. "Back in the day, Ripper would shackle me to the bed and just…"

"Oh God, my ears!" Xander interrupted that sentence before it could go wrong, his eyes wide as balloons. "You are evil! You are _so_ doing this on porpoise! I can see the glint in you eyes!"

"Think it's a different kind of glint, pet" Spike winked. "Let the man be, we all get our kicks where we can"

"I get no kicks!" the boy jumped, all the more upset by the suggestion. "And old, father-like people should definitely not be the source of kicks for anyone, _anyone_! Specially old, pervy chaos mages!"

"When did you get so judgemental anyway, Harris?" the vampire snorted. "Weren't you just fucking a vengeance demon only a while back? And didn't you go on a date with the ancient mummy bird? And… was there a _praying mantis_ there, somewhere?"

"Oh my God!" Xander exclaimed, growing louder by the minute. "I can't believe you heard about that! Who told you?"

"You did, a while back" Spike shrugged. "Were pissed as hell, after Anyanka left… you even cried on my shoulder."

"That's not true!" the boy hurried to deny it. "I am a manly man. No crying on anybodies shoulders has happened since I was six, and even that was a strange occurrence."

"Now, calm down boy. You're not letting us watch the show…" Ethan interrupted, having apparently had enough of it. "I think it's fair to say nobody here cares much for manliness, at least in _that_ way."

"Mage's right" Spike agreed, sounding tired of all the nonsense. "Now watch the show and shut up, before I have to rip your tongue out."


	10. 10

"I can't believe, of all people, you got Ethan Bloody Rayne to get me out of here!" Giles exclaimed, voice tinted with disapproval and more than a bit of anger, as he walked into the usual alley, at the usual time, to meet with his would-be saviours.

"I'm hurt!" Ethan's reply came at once. "Don't you love me anymore, Ripper?" he asked in a pathetic, high pitched falsetto voice.

"I can never really tell if you're serious or just baiting me, anymore" the watcher sighed, the impetuous anger soon replaced by tired resignation. "Why are you even here?" he asked. "Every time I've seen you in the last couple of decades, you were either trying to seduce me, or to make my life hell."

"Well, you know what they say…" Ethan replied, casual manner tinged by a bit of flirtatiousness that Xander completely refused to acknowledge. "Screw you, or screw you over."

"Just _who_, exactly, says that?" Giles enquired, sounding now extremely exasperated.

"Well, I do. It's a good line" the mage smirked seductively. "Come now, Ripper. You know I only pull harmless pranks on you… I could do all kind of nasty things to you, if I wanted to. You _know_ that."

"I know that, of course" the watcher agreed easily, as one would to a very obvious statement. "I still don't understand _why_ you're here, Ethan. I suppose you were in some way connected to my abduction…?"

"Guilty as charged, I'm afraid" Ethan admitted with an overdramatic, theatrical sigh. "I was singing your praises, as usual. I believe I _did_ mention to Ira you were an extraordinary Frankie, back in the day…" he explained, his face the portrait of astonishment and innocence. "I wouldn't have thought he was going to kidnap you for the show."

"Sod all, Ethan…" Giles actually hissed, the earlier anger once again coming to the fore. "After all these years you still make me want to beat you to a bloody pulp…"

"I think it's a gift, little masochistic bitch that I am" Ethan sighed, his expression of faked grief complemented with a somewhat lascivious smirk. "It's just a shame you don't fuck me anymore, when you're done with the beating…"

"Oh my God! Ears!" Xander yelped, his eyes very nearly popping off the sockets. "Spike, please, rip my head off now!"

"Now now, Harris, take a deep breath and be done with it" Spike attempted to placate him. "In fact, let's take a little walk…" he suggested in a soothing voice, pushing Xander to the mouth of the alley. "Be right back, we will. Don't do anything I wouldn't, watcher."

The words "fuck off" followed them out of the alley, managing a snort from the vampire and hardly any reaction at all from the shocked human by his side.

"Geez, Spike, what was _that_?" Xander asked a minute later, once they were far enough that the older men were more or less concealed by the nightly shadows.

"Kinky little bastards, were about to go at it right there in front of us" Spike shook his head in obvious disapproval. "I wouldn't mind a show, but you…"

"What?" Xander's voice rose up close to a soprano's. "They were… what do you mean, _go_ _at it_? Please tell me you mean fight… were they fighting?"

"They were flirting; think they must be fucking like crazy by now…" the vampire snorted, resting back against a wall and lighting up. "Poor bastard. I damn well know what it's like to be treated like a bitch, just like that…" he sympathized. "No wonder he's always scheming. Poor sod just wants some attention, some violence, a little bit of buggering…"

"Spike!" Xander interrupted his rant. "I know you are a vampire, and expectably of the weird, but in the human world 'attention', 'violence' and 'buggering' don't really go all that well together."

"Trust me, they do" the vampire assured him, eyebrow rising up. "There's more to that watcher than meets the eye. Should have seen the man with a chainsaw; quite the show, he put up. If the timing had been any different, I might have fallen in love with him right there…"

"Oh, come on Spike, you too? Is everyone going queer on me these days?" Xander started, only to pause for a second thought. "To be honest, the hair and the nails were a dead giveaway."

"Get buggered" the vampire replied.

"I just might…" the boy said sarcastically. "It seems to be very fashionable right now."

"Just gimme a call" Spike winked at him. "Now, let's see what those two bastards are up to… I hate to interfere, but we have things to do."


	11. 11

"Time out, boys!" Spike called into the alley, concerned that Xander might need to be hospitalized if they just happened to walk into something even slightly inappropriate.

The watcher was in fact only pinning the other man against a wall, albeit in a rather violent and somewhat indecent looking way, and whispering little somethings that made Spike chuckle to the mage's ear. Fortunately Xander could not hear a word of what was been said, as he could also not smell the interest in any of the men.

"Sod all, Spike!" Ethan complained as Giles backed away from him. "This is a once in a decade occasion!"

Spike could tell, even in the shadows, that some places of the mage's face were already starting to bruise, and he was walking rather stiffly, probably with an injured leg. The slight smell of blood made the vampire smirk.

"Well, at least there was a beating…" he shrugged. "Half way there, mage."

Giles had settled against some boxes, some feet away, and was smoking a cigarette while looking defiantly unapologetic. He snorted in an unusual way at Spike's comment.

"The beating doesn't come that hard" Ethan admitted, somewhere between annoyed and resigned. "It's the fucking that just never seems to happen"

"Didn't know, did I?" the vampire said, unrepentant. "But we have business to discuss, and the kid here was getting antsy."

"Alright" the mage agreed with a sigh of disappointment. "The bracelet magic is crap, like I said… but then again, that's not Ira's strongpoint. Technically, we _could_ take Ripper now… but I don't think we should."

"You just said the magic was crap" Xander pointed out, excited that they were back on business. "Why not, then?"

"Well, Ira's strongpoint is brutal force, his thugs…" Ethan explained, sounding tired and reticent. "And he _will_ be extremely pissed to find his Frankie gone…"

"In other words" Giles interrupted, throwing the remnants of his cigarette in the mage's close proximity "he's afraid of what Ira might do to him if he suspects his involvement."

"Well, yes!" Ethan admitted easily, hardly ashamed of it. "He's awfully _nice_, but he can be quite vicious when he's angry, and it's not like Ripper here will protect me afterwards… Bloody wanker, just use me and leave me."

"Now, Ethan… keep track" a bored-looking Spike cut him off. "I think the mage's right, though. Talked to Ira myself, and he's awful fond of Frankie there. We get him out, Ira gets him back." He paused for a minute, apparently in thought. "I like the guy, but I'm afraid he has to go…"

"You mean _kill_ Ira?" the chaos mage exclaimed in utter disbelief. "How?!"

"Sword in the gut should do, long as it's Damascus steel…" Spike shrugged.

"I mean, how do you plan to _get _to Ira in the first place?" Ethan insisted. "He's better guarded than the bloody president!"

"There's always a way…" the vampire commented, looking thoughtful for a minute. "Always liked young humans, Ira. We can just…"

"Absolutely not…" Giles suddenly interrupted the expression on his face somewhat more akin to his usual self. "He's already more involved than I would have ever wanted him to be".

"What?" Xander asked, understanding they were obviously talking about him, but not sure of why. "What?!" he insisted when nobody seemed to volunteer any answers.

"Well see, Harris, Ira _really_ likes young humans…" Spike started, ignoring the watcher's glare of death. "Not like he eats them or anything, just likes to play a bit… not rough or anything… and that'd be one hell of a way to distract him, if you know what I mean."

"Okay, Spike I get it. I'm not that stupid, you know…" Xander said, annoyed at been considered so dense. "So basically I have to… um… show him a good time?"

"Oh bloody hell" Giles exclaimed, not believing they were still even considering such a thing. "Definitely not, Xander. I forbid it. You will not put yourself in such a position because of me, and that is the end of it."

"No, Giles, I _want_ to do it" Xander insisted, disregarding the watcher's no-nonsense tone. "You're always looking out for us, and I never… this is my chance of doing _something_, of helping out…"

"Xander, I hate to be crude, but you have seen enough already that I don't think I should watch my language with you…" Giles persisted. "You will be whoring for a Yrouk demon."

"Well, not necessarily, right Spike?" Xander said, looking at Spike dubiously.

"Right" the vampire told him reassuringly. "Can always take him before it gets hot and wild."

"I want to help, Giles" the boy pressed on, almost pleadingly.

"Fine. Have it your way" the watcher threw his hands in the air in defeat. "But mark my words, Alexander, it will be no picnic…"

"I can handle it, really" Xander assured him.

"And you" Giles turned to the vampire with a threatening look. "If anything should happen to Xander, I will dust you myself, in the slowest, most painful way possible."

"Sure thing, watcher" Spike snorted, recognizing the real warning even as he pretended to disregard it. "Let's go, Harris. Mage, you coming?"

"He stays" the watcher said neutrally, not even glancing at the other man. "We have things to discuss."


	12. 12

Spike knew the questions were imminent; he had been waiting for the whelp to start asking for about two hours, and the only reason he hadn't told him to just get on with it was that he knew how dense Xander could be, and he dreaded the outcome. As it was, the boy had been paying hardly any attention at all to the T.V. since they had arrived, and Spike could almost see the wheels turning inside his usually rather vacuous little head.

"He's acting… weird" the human finally said, sounding entirely like he had just started talking where he had left off in his mental rant.

"Not really. Just more like himself, if you ask me" Spike shrugged, his eyes glued to the T.V. as if he were actually enjoying that idiotic Star Trek movie. "Maybe it's just the booze… he reeked of it" he suggested. "Or maybe it's the mage. They have something going, there."

"Come on, Spike, seriously" the boy threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Do you really think Giles has… a thing with Ethan Rayne? They hate each other. Ethan is always trying to ruin Giles' life, and Giles is always ruining Ethan's plans… how could that _ever_ be something else?"

"Ever heard of sado-masochism, then?" the vampire snorted, resigning himself to have the conversation after all; one look at the boy confirmed his suspicions. "Didn't think you had" he said, returning to his silent position in front of the T.V.

Neither one of them spoke for some time, both pretending to be interested in the movie. It was only a temporary silence, Spike knew, and was fully expecting Xander to speak again when he did;

"What do you mean?" the boy asked, right on cue.

"What do you think I mean?" the vampire again turned to face the human. "I think the mage likes it rough, and the watcher likes to give it rough."

"I just don't get it…" Xander shook his head. "I mean… gross! It's Giles…"

"No big" Spike shrugged. "Should stop looking at him like a watcher, and think of him as a bloke, too. Gotta have needs, like anybody else."

"But Spike!" the boy whined like a capricious child. "That's _so_ not like him."

"Told you, that's how they get their kicks" the vampire insisted, growing tired of the way the talk didn't seem to go anywhere. "What's bothering you, anyway? The gay, or the kink?"

"I'm not a homophobe" Xander exclaimed, upset by the very notion. "Everybody should be with whoever they want to be. It's the out of character behaviour that just…"

"Oh, please, spare me Harris!" Spike interrupted him, having had enough of such nonsense for a night. "You're just as bigoted as the best of them! You may not have prejudices against pansies, but you're not been all that fair to all the kinky bastards out there!"

"But that's different…" the human sounded appalled. "It's just… wrong."

"Why's that, then?" Spike asked, fully appreciating the absurdity of talking circles like they were. "Not hurting anybody, are they? Just doing their thing."

"Well, but their _thing_ is just sick…" the boy insisted, wide-eyed like a scared puppy. "I think Giles must have been brainwashed, or something."

"What if they just like it sick, then?" the dead of the pair pointed out "What do you care, anyway? Were having a ball back in the alley, weren't they? If you ask me, the watcher is just been an ass about it…"

"Okay…" Xander sighed, trying to keep calm instead of giving in to his instincts and staking the vampire next to him. "Say you're right about _some_ of it… they are always orbiting around each other, and no matter what they do, it seems like they _always_ keep coming back." He paused to let his agreement on the fact be clear. "What about the whole violence thing? That's just so… upsetting."

"Just let it go, will you?" Spike gave up, turning back to the T.V. "As long as it's a two-way thing, the best you can do is step back and let the fireworks just happen. They'll figure it out eventually. Or not. Not you business, right?"

"Right" Xander agreed, albeit half-heartedly.

"Peachy. Now watch the bloody movie."


	13. 13

Spike was hardly surprised when he was awoken, in the middle of the night, by the boy's hushed yet whining voice.

It was bad enough that he had to sleep in a bloody couch, and next to a snoring teenaged human, but now he had apparently landed the wonderful and fulfilling job of fulltime counsellor to said boy.

He tried pretending to be asleep, but after hearing "Spike, wake up" for fifteen minutes, right there in his ear and perfectly timed every three minutes or so, he realized he would never be able to go back to sleep unless he addressed the problem.

"What now, git?" he sighed, sounding not half as annoyed as he actually was. "If it's got to be with the watcher and his lovebird, I will hit you… and not in a sexy way."

"Ew, Spike… don't put images in my head that I don't want there!" Xander whined like a little kid. "I was just thinking, maybe we should get Buffy involved, after all…"

"Don't think the man's gonna appreciate it, Harris. His life seems fucked up enough as it is…" he pointed out. "What's the problem? Getting cold feet?"

"Yeah…" the boy admitted, soft voiced, honestly upset if the sound of him was any indication; Spike inwardly cursed himself for been such a pansy, but sat up nonetheless.

"Nothing to worry about, pet" he assured the human. "Gonna be over in a blink, really."

"I know, it's just… What if I fuck it up? What if I freak? And what if…" the mad rant seemed to go on pause for an endless minute and a half. "What if he doesn't even _like_ me? It's not like people line up to have a go at the Xan-man!"

"Oi, enough of that!" he said before more ridiculous babbling could happen. "Told you, Harris, you're a nummy treat…"

"You're just saying that…" Xander pouted, entirely too large to look so small.

"Now, don't be such a girl" Spike rolled his eyes. "Trust me, you may not be much by human standards, but as far as demons are concerned… it's like you have a gigantic neon sign over your head that advertises you as the ultimate delicacy… don't think there's a demon out there who may _not_ want you."

"I knew it" the human sighed, sounding resigned rather than conforted. "I knew I was a demon magnet for real…"

"Can't help it, now, can you? Just the way you are…" the vampire patted him in the leg in a friendly manner, which also seemed to indicate the conversation was coming to an end. "Gonna be real useful right now, stop worrying. Now go back to sleep and quit bugging me."

With that, Spike lay back down and closed his eyes, readying himself to sleep. Xander lay back down, himself, and remained quiet for a while.

The vampire could almost see the wheels turning inside of his head, so he was hardly caught unaware by the boys quiet whisper;

"Um, Spike, you said no demon out there could _not_ want me…"

"Just manipulating you, Harris. Wouldn't as much as poke you with a stick" he assured him. "Now go back to sleep."

"Okay"

¸.·¯·.¸¸.·¯· ¸.·¯·.¸¸.·¯·

"You're going to cost me my reputation" was the first thing that Ethan Rayne said to them on Wednesday, when human and vampire went to see him. "A whole life of work thrown overboard, just because Ripper whistles my way…" the mage shook his head in disbelief of himself. "Should leave him there for a while, wait until Ira tires of the show and kicks him out."

"Watcher will be bloody pissed if you walk, though" Spike shrugged, aware that he was pointing out the obvious.

"Sadly, I don't believe he will" Ethan sighed, sounding entirely too human and definitely too tired. "I've done much worse, and he seems to care less and less every year… I don't believe there's anything I can do to get a rise out of him, anymore…"

"Looked pretty interested the other day…" the vampire continued to point out the obvious.

"He did, didn't he?" the man smirked, all his age lifting away from his face. "Maybe I should tie him to my bed, keep him slightly inebriated…"

"Woah, time out there!" Xander interrupted him, his voice rising enough that he couldn't be ignored. "How about we just talk about getting Giles out of there, and spare me a few thousand dollars of therapy… I know I'll need hundreds of hours, as it is."

"That sounds fair enough" Ethan smirked yet again, in such a characteristic way that Xander felt thrown back a few years. "It should be quite simple, really. You offer the boy to Ira, he takes him to the back… if we do it during the show, most of the guards will be up front." He paused, obviously dealing with a conflicting thought. "Do we really need to _kill_ Ira? He's not all that _evil_, really…"

"You fucked in the head or what, mage?" the vampire asked in disbelief, one eyebrow rising almost as far as his hairline. "Might be a likable bloke, but I don't tire of pointing out he's a bloody mobster! What did you have in mind? Send him to an alternate dimension? Cast a _spell_ on him? Don't you think that's gonna come back to bite us later?"

"You're right, of course" the mage agreed at once, nodding emphatically. "I will get everything, then" he said, disappearing in the back of the store only to appear again in a short time, carrying a small black velvet pouch.

"Now, boy, pay attention" he explained, giving the small bag to Xander. "This is very powerful poison. I suggest you slip some into Ira's drink at some point… he will pass out, roughly, three seconds after he ingests even the smallest amount of it. Of course his metabolism is very accelerated, in fact there is no poison that can really kill a Yrouk, so it is imperative that the killer blow is delivered within minutes of the ingestion of the poison…"

"Will have to be ready…" Spike agreed. "Can you make a backdoor?"

"Of _course_ I can make a backdoor, _anybody_ can make a back door" the mage answered in rightful indignation.

"Peachy" the vampire grinned impishly. "You're coming with, then."

"I don't think that will be necessary" Ethan was quick to assure him. "In fact, a backdoor is easy enough to do that you should be able to…"

"Not up for discussion, is it?" Spike interrupted him, all playfulness gone from his face and manner. "Need someone to watch my back, do some spur of the moment casting… _and_ I don't trust you not to double-cross us if I let you out of my sight."

"Well, I suppose your distrust is not entirely injudicious…" the spellcaster admitted readily, taking no offence. "Still, I believe active participation in this… hit might prove ultimately detrimental to my health."

"Not optional, mage" the vampire assured him. "Not participating will prove _immediately _detrimental to your helth"

"In that case" Ethan Rayne said with a strained, commercial smile. "I can hardly wait."


	14. 14

Spike had know without a doubt that very little sleep was going to be had that day. He had, nonetheless, insisted they go to bed as soon as they had returned from their meeting with the mage, hoping he might in such a way save himself at least some of the boy's nervous babbling and inevitable pleads for reassurance.

He was never one not to give credit where credit was due, and he had to give it to the boy: he had excellent self control for someone that young, and that immensely vulnerable in comparison to the majority of the town's population. He was hardly surprised, however, when around ten in the morning his peaceful slumber was disturbed.

"Spike? Are you awake?" the boy asked, loud enough to wake even the truly dead.

"I am _now_" the vampire sighed, sounding entirely more annoyed than he actually felt. "What is it, Harris?"

"I was thinking… about tonight" Xander said in a pitiful tone.

"Yeah, what about it?" Spike urged on, determined to be done with the necessary talking as soon as at all possible.

"Well, I wasn't very sure of how we were going to go about it…?" the human explained. "How am I going to get to this Ira guy in the first place?"

"Thought it was bloody obvious" the vampire said matter-of-factly. "Gonna give you to him…"

"Just like that?" the kid asked, disbelief permeating his voice.

"Just like that" Spike sighed, unable to figure out where exactly in his unlife had it all had gone so horribly wrong. "Look, it's not uncommon among demons to give tasty humans as a present, or a sign of respect…"

"I know _that_" the boy continued. "But it's not like you respect _anyone_, and you're not the randomly gift-giving kind of fiend either… won't he grow suspicious?"

"Dunno, Harris" the vampire admitted, not concerned enough with the matter to let it disturb his sleep. "Not much for planning that far ahead, am I? Don't get your knickers in a twist, I'll come up with something."

"But what if you don't…" Xander insisted, his tone indicating he wouldn't shut up until a suitable plan was formed.

"I'll trade you in for a J&Blood, alright?" Spike said, having grown quickly tired of the useless talk. "Not shut up and let me…"

"A J&Blood?" his human room-mate interrupted him, affronted. "You'll exchange me for a _drink_? I'm worth far more than that, pal!"

"Not so sure 'bout that, Harris… the annoying far overweighs the tasty" the undead of the pair replied with no little exasperation tingeing his voice.

"I am not _annoying_, I am just concerned about the plan…" the Scooby complained, obviously offended by the notion.

"You are being annoying _right now_, Harris" Spike assured him, determined that the conversation was over. "Drop it already."

"Fine" the boy said, turning in bed to face the opposite direction.

"Fine" the other repeated to the human's back. "Shut up and let me be."

¸.·¯·.¸¸.·¯· ¸.·¯·.¸¸.·¯·

"I still think I should have dressed somewhat nicer…" Xander complained as they made their way towards the show, on Saturday. "What if he doesn't like me?" he fretted.

"You sound like a bird, Harris" Spike answered with a scoff, tired of the incessant ramblings of the human. "It's alright, as long as you're human. Michael Jackson would be desirable to a Yrouk…"

"You're comparing me to Michael Jackson? I'm not even sure he _is_ human!" the boy complained, his voice coming out as a pitiful whine. "What if Ira's not there?"

"It's his place, right? Can't think of anyplace else he might be…" Spike said reasonably, hoping his voice seemed calm enough to be reassuring. He could see no faults with his plan, and didn't really understand why the whelp was so anxious about the bloody thing, but if the subject didn't change soon he was going to feed him to a hellhound, rest be damned.

"What if there is no drink?" Xander kept going, completely oblivious to the vampire's glare of death.

"Yrouks need to drink constantly, in this dimension, or the dry up and die…" the vampire explained as patiently as his rapidly worsening mood permitted. "They're from a swamp dimension" he explained, catching the Scooby's look of consternation.

"And he moved to California?" the boy asked in disbelief. "Why not, say, Brazil?"

"I don't know, Harris" Spike rolled his eyes, nonetheless welcoming the long overdue change of subject. "Suppose they don't do The Show in Brazil…"

"They don't?" Xander asked, genuinely curious about it.

"Dunno, didn't check" the vampire shrugged. "Maybe I'll ask Dru in a couple hundred years, if I ever manage to get her back…"

"Still pinning over her?" the boy asked, casually.

"She's like a disease…" Spike admitted, never one to shy away from discussing such things. "Can't seem to get rid of her completely, can I?"

"Like syphilis?" Xander suggested.

"What's wrong with you, Harris?" the vampire exclaimed in disbelief, stopping in his tracks to give the offender a disapproving look. "Syphilis? No wonder you can't keep a woman! Cancer, that's a poetical disease… eats you right from the inside. But syphilis, that's just disgusting…"

"Were I come from, disease is _never_ poetical…" the human pointed out, emphasising his point with an eye roll.

"Right? Where's that, then? Illiterate-dale?" Spike snorted. "What do you know about poetry?"

"What do _you_ know about poetry?" his room-mate replied, reasonably.

"I'm telling you, when this chip's out I'm coming for you first…" the blond sighed tiredly. "I think I hate you."

"Like you don't hate everybody… evil creature of the night, and all…" Xander laughed, disregarding both threat and insult.

"Might be evil, but I don't waste profound emotion on just about anyone, Harris" Spike pointed out, shaking his head at the ridiculous, ignorant conception. "I love Dru. I hate Angelus. The rest, just fleeting like or dislike…"

"Really?" the boy asked, sounding surprised by the notion, but very enthusiastic about it as well. "I thought vampires were naturally hateful… end of the world kind of hating."

"Nah. Some are, I guess" the undead of the pair shrugged. "Me? I do shades of gray. Guess I'm too random to have solid, all-encompassing emotions like that."

They walked in silence for a while, as the Scooby absorbed the information. In truth, it wasn't really difficult to accept what the vampire was saying, having know him long enough. Lately, he had actually started to consider him as something closely resembling a friend, even if he _was_ the evil undead, sometimes deceitful, and always deliberately annoying.

"So you're not coming for me if you get the chip out" Xander finally said, putting two and two together.

"_When_ I get the chip out" Spike corrected him. "Don't think so, I lose interest in the long term" he admitted with a noncommittal shrug. "I would rip out your guts and feed them to you, right now, if I could… but I'll probably settle for humiliating you some, and drinking down your pay-check as usual."

"That's relieving…" the human let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "For a moment there I was afraid you might abandon me to Ira's gross lust…"

"Nah, don't worry about that…" Spike assured him offhandedly. "I may take pictures and blackmail you, but I'm not really in a position to do full-blown betrayal right now."

The mind boggled. Deep down, Xander acknowledged the person walking beside him was in fact an evil creature of the night, and should be regarded with at least some care but, on the other hand, he had grown comfortable enough in his presence that he couldn't help but comment.

"You just admitted you need us…" he said, the words slowly enunciated for emphasis.

"I don't need anyone, Harris" the vampire denied at once, his all-too-ready answer followed by a pause. "A vamp's got to chose his battles, though."

"Which is just your way of saying you need us, while patting yourself in the back…" Xander pointed out logically.

"Oi, boy, are you bloody daft?" Spike asked, stopping his march once more to grace the human with a raised eyebrow. "You _daring_ me to betray you right before you get thrown in a little room with a very horny, possibly very hungry Yrouk?"

"Hungry?" the Scooby all but squealed, wide open eyes looking for reassurance. "Hungry never made it into the equation. Please say this is just your idea of a good joke. Laughs for everyone. There will be no eating of the Xand-man, will there?"

The tense, if brief moment of silence that followed was broken by a sigh of relief, following the vampire's mocking roll of his eyes.

"You're such a ponce" he snorted. "Forgot I _need_ you? Can't have you getting eaten, now, can I?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Doesn't eat meat, Ira. Usually settles for a rough tumble."

"Oh God!" Xander started to panic, the reality of the threat finally sinking in. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Giles was right. He's always right!" he grabbed Spike's shoulders desperately, forcing the vampire to look at him in the face. "You're not going to betray me to his enormous groppy hands, are you?"

"Oh will you calm down, git!" the bleached blonde threw his hands in the air, stepping out of the kid's needy hold. "I'm just fucking with you, aren't I? Laughs for everyone and all that?" Greeted by a sceptic look, he sighed and continued: "Look, you're a bit of alright. Don't fancy you getting eating, or buggered, on my shift. Now stop all that, or he'll get suspicious."

"I'll say I'm a nervous virgin, let me panic in peace" the boy complained, even as he resumed walking in the direction of Ira's establishment. "You were actually implying you kind of like me, over there?" he asked after a moment, sounding entirely too casual for Spike's taste.

"If you say a word about that, I'll hunt you and whoever you tell down" the vampire assured him. "Now let's get this show on the road."


	15. 15

"J&Blood, ducks" Spike ordered for the twelfth time in an hour, ignoring the glare from the elderly human as his drink was mixed.

Having arrived just after opening time—and to an empty house—the old man had tried to engage Spike in conversation; at the time Spike had found it rather amusing, the way the greying old man remembered his days as Rocky Horror as the golden years.

Then the old fellow had started rambling, in a pitiful tone, about how useless he felt these days, old and crippled after an accident with a Fyarl too drunk to notice where he was standing. How he couldn't even play Dr. Scott anymore, how nobody respected him at all, took him for granted, gave him the crumbs just out of inertia, because they didn't even care enough to kick him out.

Fifteen minutes into the man's pathetic monologue Spike was starting to feel unfitting and underappreciated himself, hit by the undeniable parallels between the old bastard's story and his own. Instead of joining up the pity party he had done what any self-respecting demon would do, and told the old fellow to just bugger off and mix him another.

Xander sat to his side, silently not-drinking the green-bluish non-alcoholic mix that had been served to him when Spike had ordered something human-friendly. He was growing restless by degrees, and it didn't help that the only person he could honestly rely on to save his sorry ass—and how funny was it that the person was Spike—was currently having the bad-ass vampire version of the blues. He glared at the bartender.

He had been nervous enough, even when they had only just arrived, to cling to every word that was been spoken if only to have something to occupy himself. Because of that, he had witnessed in minute detail the whole process—how Spike had gone from indifferent, to pissed off, to total shut-off, to, finally, his snark-at-will attitude. Xander stopped himself from glaring at the bartender again, and instead focused on Spike.

He might be an annoying bastard at his best, and a ruthless, murdering demon at his worst–or the other way around, as far as Spike was concerned—but he was still, all possible denial on both parts aside, a sentient been. And he was feeling out of the loop; kind of like Xander had felt all of his life.

It might have been harder to sympathise with a guy trying to assassinate you, and your friends, in creative, amazingly painful and notably embarrassing ways. Now, though, sitting next to him and looking pissed, he looked like just about any other guy. Just another outcast among outcasts.

He was about to say something to Spike—probably something entirely inopportune which would lead to complete disaster—when he was suddenly yanked out of his thoughts by the loud thump of the vampire's glass as it was deposited on the bar with an air of finality.

He followed Spike's casual scan of the room, stopping momentarily at the back where Ethan sat, chatting up a scaly female of some exotic—and voluptuous—species.

"Alright then" Spike said to himself, waving the bartender over for a last refill; the lights were dimmed already, and the music was just starting. The glass was emptied in one long swallow as soon as it arrived, and Spike stood up resolutely.

"No time like right now" Spike said, grabbing Xander's hand to haul him up, and heading straight for the door with him in tow. "Just follow my lead".

Xander didn't have the time to ask "what lead", or to question Spike's intent, before the all too human-looking, all too large half-breed at the door stopped Spike with an enormous and greenish hand across the chest.

"Vampire" the doorman said in a human-sounding voice "You forgot to pay for your drinks".

"Don't pay for my drinks" Spike answered back, looking disdainful yet threatening—and admirable feat, considering the demon was a head taller. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Look vampire, I don't care if you're Richard O'Brien in the undead flesh" the demon replied, less than impressed. "You drink, you pay".

"I. Don't. Pay. For. My. Drinks." Insisted Spike, as if talking to a retarded insect. "Got that, faulty ears? Now piss off."

"I don't have faulty ears. _You_ seem to, grandpa" the doorman corrected, an enormous hand stopping Spike's attempt to walk pass him. "Now go pay for those, before I kick your undead ass all the way to Transylvania."

"Got an attitude to go with the ugly colouring, don't you?" Spike sneered. "Only reason you're not already in separate pieces is my human here is too delicate to soil with the stinky black mud that passes for you blood. Doesn't mean I'm not gonna get you later, mind you, but for now I'll just get you fired".

"Look, how about you just…" the doorman started, sounding tired already, only to be interrupted by Spike invading his personal space.

"Get. Ira."

A battle of wills ensued then, with Spike staring up at the huge beast of a guy as if he were staring down at him, and the muscleman staring down at Spike with disdain that slowly melted into concern at the hearing of the name William the Bloody.

Still, the big guy refused to abandon his post by the door, and an all-too-slender waiter was sent up to Ira's office, only to return in an extremely short time with an "invitation" to go up and meet with the owner.

Ira's office was large, if rather empty; a large mahogany desk with a lava lamp on top, and a shiny blue chair the only furniture in the room other than the plaid, decrepit looking couch to the side.

Ira sighed loudly when Spike came into the room, putting away the papers he had obviously been going through before he was interrupted.

"Spike" Ira sighed again. "I suppose it was too much to hope it was actually some fledgling bragging about been you."

"Love to feel welcome, I do" Spike smirked, looking entirely like a cat who got the fish and then, when scolded, killed its owner as well. "What's the problem with your half-breed bag of anabolic?"

"He's nicely built, isn't he?" Ira grinned proudly, as if momentarily forgetting the reason of the visit; after yet another sight, a frown settled on his face to replace the grin. "Look, Spike, I invited you to one drink on the house. I'm trying to run a business here, not a charity. If I just let everyone go without paying whenever they feel like it, I'll never have a paying costumer again."

"What? No respect for an old friendship?" Spike sounded affronted. "What's the world coming to?"

"Spike" Ira raised his hand, interrupting Spike's bout of rightful indignation. "I am a businessman, not a girl-scout. I don't have friends. And, you killed puppy."

"You killed his puppy?" Xander asked, too appalled by the fact to remember himself.

"Anyone ask you, pet?" Spike glared at him, daring him to make another comment while promising endless agony, all conveyed in just a look. "Didn't think so" he said, satisfied when Xander looks down in embarrassment that could hopefully be interpreted as submission. His glare turned to Ira.

"It was a seven-headed, four feet tall hound with a snake for a tail! It was trying to munch on me!"

"I was trying to collect those kittens you owed me" Ira quipped in reasonably, as if there were no reason to get heated over such a silly thing.

"Paid them back, didn't I?" Spike interrupted him, sounding indignant. "Might be evil, but I'm good for my word. Got a reputation to protect, I'm an Aurelian vampire, not just some…"

"The kittens had toxoplasmosis" Ira interrupted Spike's rant, rolling his eyes in a way that was entirely incoherent with his size and appearance.

"Look Spike, I am a generous Yrouk; I let go of the grudge long ago" Ira assured him, holding up his hands in a placating manner. "But this is simply absurd. Just pay for the drinks and get off of my hair."

"Can't" Spike shrugged casually. "Don't have any money, do I?"

"Well, I am hardly surprised" Ira shook his head disapproving, looking somehow like a disappointed parent. "I'd love to give you credit, but I doubt I'll ever see you again if I do, and I have a reputation here to enforce. I could give you a job here, get you to settle your debt, but I don't see you as the dishwashing type…" Ira seemed to consider his options for a moment. "No, forget it. I'm just gonna have to make an example out of you, aren't I?"

"Now, now" Spike said, obviously not appreciating the solution. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm sure we can find some compromise here…"

"Spike" Ira said, sounding immensely tired as he pressed the bridge of his nose. "You don't have money, you don't have anything of any value whatsoever on you, and if you set foot out of here I may never see you again. What do you suggest?"

"We'll work something out" Spike suggested, sounding entirely too casual for someone who was obviously playing the angles. "We could get to some sort of personal arrangement."

"I don't think so" Ira said, looking thoughtful. "You weren't any good last time…"

"Hey mate, I'm _always_ good" Spike sounded affronted. "And I never did you, either. That was Billy bloody Idol you're talking about. Remember, with the cheap tattoo and the heartbeat?"

"Oh, yes, I remember now…" Ira agreed readily. "He wasn't any good, but he brought in a crowd. You do look like him, think of it."

"He resembles _me_!" Spike said, his voice coming out like he was suppressing a growl. "Bloody ponce, stole my look, he did" he went on, stopping only when the sound of Xander's breathing, as he tried to stop himself from laughing out load, reached his ears.

"And what are _you_ cracking up about, then?" Spike asked, looking as furious as anyone can while still retaining a certain air of nonchalance. "Might as well give you him, if you want him! Deserves a good lesson, soddin' human."

"Well, he _is_ something, really" Ira pondered, suddenly interested. "Is he as soft as he looks?"

"Every inch as much, and he makes this little whinny noises while you're buggering him…" Spike commented casually, as if pointing out the tricks a dog can do. "I'll want him back in one piece, mind you. Just offering you a go… or a couple. You know, settle the score, show the little brat a lesson, everyone satisfied, right?"

"He does blush most handsomely" Ira agreed, considering the human boy before him carefully. "Is he yours to command, Spike? He does not carry your mark"

"Haven't gotten there yet, have we?" Spike said, as if the matter bore no interest. "He's mine in all the ways that matter, and he does what his master says, don't you pet?" he asked, pinning Xander with his eyes in a threatening way.

"Yes, _master_" Xander agreed in what he considered a meek enough tone, casting his eyes down to the floor to keep his indignation to himself.

In the end the result was satisfactory, conveying respect and submission rather than the anger and affront Xander felt.

"Alright Spike, let it not be said that Ira is not a generous Yrouk" Ira finally agreed, entirely convinced by the charming human. "I'll take the boy in payment, and give him back to you tomorrow. I always did have a soft spot for you, Spike."

"Okay pet," Spike said, turning to speak to Xander, "be a good boy now and show 'ol Ira a good time" he instructed Xander. "Be back for you tomorrow around this time"

It was about that time that the reality of it all hit Xander, and fear took over. He would have said something, if he had known what to say that would possibly pave the way to a clean exit. As it was, he was about to say _something_, anything, when suddenly he had Spike lips all over his own.

Again, he was unable to find any words for the occasion as Spike left the room with a confident stride, slapping his ass playfully as a goodbye.


End file.
